


scrubs and cubs

by etoilette



Series: AU-gust 2020 [6]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Fluff, M/M, Stuffed Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilette/pseuds/etoilette
Summary: “My name is Gocchan,” Akechi says in a falsetto that has Akira immediately stifling a laugh behind his hand. “Akechi-kun and I are going to help you feel better today! Would you like to hold me? I give really good hugs, you know!”“Please,” Akira manages to say without choking. “Please hug me.”ORThere is a new clinic in Sakaminato that accepts patients of all shapes and sizes. Akira finds himself going back again and again.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: AU-gust 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860436
Comments: 9
Kudos: 155





	scrubs and cubs

**Author's Note:**

> This took me way longer than it should! I apologize for that. Work was killer today and I got so distracted during my rewatch of Gundam 00 and also avoiding Twitter as best as I can because of Reasons. This is actually my least favourite so far in terms of execution. The concept is cute but I think the way I did it, it's a little too muddled up. Hm.
> 
> [Here is a lovely fanart of Gocchan, Goro, and Akira from Tuggi!! ](https://twitter.com/JustTuggi/status/1291816647037276162)

Akira can’t believe he’s saying this, but he misses Takemi Tae. 

She’s objectively a terrible doctor. Oh, she could probably diagnose and cure any disease, but “ethics” and “morals” are words that straight up do not exist in her dictionary. Akira doubts that he could find any other doctor in the world willing to put him under general anesthesia just because Akira is uneasy around needles.

He’s not afraid of them, of course, because that would be ridiculous. He has just never liked sharp objects with their business end anywhere near his skin. It’s a completely rational feeling, which is why he had to beg Takemi for  _ weeks _ before she finally agreed to put him under any time he needed to get a shot or get bloodwork done.

It’s unfortunate that Takemi isn’t willing to take a thirteen-hour long trip with five transfers from Tokyo to Tottori. 

If Akira had the choice he most definitely would have spent his vacation from university in Tokyo, with all his friends and in a place that had actual entertainment more than tossing weeds at each other. But, to his great surprise, he had somehow run out of money for food, and it’s not like he can continue his work as an intern for his professor if his professor is also on break.

Who knew that spending twelve hours per day gaming and eating in Akihabara and Shibuya would be such a detriment on his wallet.

So now he finds himself back in Sakaminato, mooching off his parents and lazing about flipping through the three entire channels on the television. It wasn’t actually  _ that bad _ , until his mom forced him to catch up on all of his shots. 

“There’s a new clinic in town,” she said, a familiar twinkle in her eye. “I hear the doctor is  _ super _ cute! You definitely need your shots right now. I actually already made an appointment for you so make sure you go.”

Akira shakes his head vehemently. “I’d rather die.”

His mom sticks her hand out. “Pay me rent.”

“Where’s the clinic?”

X

Akira winces and shuts his eyes, jerking his arm back and out of Akechi’s grip again. He hears the doctor let out a sharp hiss of frustration, and he can’t help but feel bad. 

“I’ve had babies not even two years old come in here for shots and they didn’t even  _ cry _ , city boy,” Akechi snaps, his voice teasing in the most malicious way. 

Strangely enough, Akira no longer feels bad for being a shitty patient.

Dr. Akechi Goro is the only doctor working at the small and dilapidated AKECHI CLINIC at the very edge of town, about fifteen minutes away from Akira’s parents’ house. The only other person who seems to be employed there is a shy and quiet woman with long red hair and glasses, who didn’t look Akira in the eye the entire time he was in the waitting room.

He is hesitant to agree with his mother at all, but he does admit that okay, Dr. Akechi is pretty easy on the eyes. With an effeminate face and unique russet-brown eyes hidden behind a pair of thick glasses, he was adorable in a nerdy way. Until he started talking. 

“Maybe I’ll treat you like I treat those toddlers,” he hears Akechi say as he lets go of Akira’s arm. 

The doctor leans down in his chair and tugs out a cardboard box wrapped up in white-and-red stars, rummaging around in it with both hands. It doesn’t look like anything the prickly doctor would have normally, and Akira tilts his head in confusion when Akechi straightens up with a stuffed dog. 

It’s floppy, with large limbs, dark golden fur, and a red ribbon around its neck. Its droopy ears are a darker colour than the rest of it and its tongue sticks out of its open mouth, looking like it’s perpetually grinning.

The toy wouldn’t look out of place if Akira saw it in a toy store window, but it does not match the cold and sterile aesthetic of the Akechi Clinic. 

That is, until Akechi holds the doll up so it’s completely covering his face, one hand manipulating the dog’s paw so it looks like it’s waving at Akira. 

“My name is Gocchan,” Akechi says in a falsetto that has Akira immediately stifling a laugh behind his hand. “Akechi-kun and I are going to help you feel better today! Would you like to hold me? I give really good hugs, you know!”

“Please,” Akira manages to say without choking. “Please hug me.”

Akechi looks at Akira from around Gocchan, a highly unprofessional smirk on his face. “If you insist,” he says before shoving Gocchan into Akira’s hands. Akira isn’t sure why he’s a little disappointed, but his hands tighten around the silky fluff of Gocchan’s fur. It’s so  _ soft _ , and he runs his hands through it with reverence.

“He’s nice, isn’t he?” Akechi asks sweetly. He wheels his chair closer to Akira and puts a hand lightly on Akira’s bare arm. For some reason, the goosebumps that start to cover his skin don’t feel like they’re from the A/C blasting down into the room. Akechi strokes his arm twice, pressing down harder on the second pass, before he injects the needle into Akira’s arm in one swift and easy motion.

Oddly, Akira barely acknowledges the sting. Akechi didn’t even knock him unconscious.

He leaves the clinic with a patch on his arm and a warmth in his chest, and he barely hears the red-haired receptionist stammer out a goodbye. 

“How was the doctor?” his mom asks excitedly when Akira comes home, but he isn’t even able to formulate a response. 

He makes his way into his room and face-plants into the hard mattress, absentmindedly stroking a hand over his shoulder. Even through the thin fabric of his T-shirt, he can feel the patch that Akechi slapped onto his skin after the vaccine shot. What kind of doctor is he? What kind of doctors would treat their patient like that?

Sure, Takemi was always making fun of him and calling him names, but that’s different. Somehow. He isn’t sure why but for some reason, Takemi gets a pass. But Akechi? Just the memory of that smirk and the way he made fun of Akira with that adorable stuffed dog...Akira lets out a frustrated sigh.

He thumbs open the Tweeter app and types in AKECHI CLINIC into the search bar. He wasn’t expecting much but to his surprise, he sees an official Tweeter account for it. There are a mind-boggling 26,000 followers for the account, and Akira doubts that almost the entire population is following AKECHI CLINIC. He isn’t sure if Akechi himself runs it, or the shy receptionist, but the most recent post was a picture of Akechi eating an apple with the caption “Akechi-sensei has lunch >w<”, so it must be some sort of joint effort.

To Akira’s surprise, Akechi actually isn’t that prominent on the profile. Sure, there are a few posts where Akechi is eating apples, or staring down at paperwork with an annoyed expression on his face. But the majority of the account was actually focused on stuffed animals. 

If Akira didn’t actually visit AKECHI CLINIC himself, he would have thought that the AKECHI CLINIC specialized in fixing up stuffed animals. 

A stuffed giraffe with a bandage around its neck, posing next to a plant. The caption was “Kirin-san made a full recovery and is having a break next to Akechi-sensei’s aloe!”

A stuffed octopus with bandages all over its tentacles is held aloft by a delicate hand that Akira already recognizes as Akechi’s. It’s posed so that it’s staring out at the water, with the caption, “Takomi is doing well and enjoying a day at Nakaumi Lake! It’s not the ocean but Takomi is still happy!”

Posts and posts and posts, just like that, interspersed with pictures of Akechi and actual updates such as earlier closing hours. It’s a surprisingly charming Tweeter profile, well-deserving of its high follower count.

The pinned Tweet advertises Akechi as a people doctor who moonlights as a doll doctor with the help of Gocchan-sensei. Under the caption is a photo of Akechi with Gocchan in his lap, a picture-perfect smile on his face that looks nothing like the cold smile Akechi gave him in the clinic. 

“Send in any dolls who have suffered a boo-boo <3” says the Tweet, and Akira hums in consideration. It  _ is _ his childhood bedroom, and his mom kept all of his old stuffed animals. He reaches out and snags up the stuffed black cat that had been sitting innocently next to his pillow. Named ‘Mona’ after a character on a television show he watched when he was a child, it’s been one of his favourite dolls for the majority of his youth. 

“Sorry, Mona,” Akira says and he bows his head quickly before he rips off Mona’s arm in one fell swoop. It shreds off with a horrible tearing noise, white fluff leaking out immediately like blood. Mona’s big blue eyes look up at him beseechingly and Akira forces himself to look away as he bundles Mona up in a soft blue blanket. “It’s for the greater good.”

Mona doesn’t reply. 

Akira turns the light off and huddles under the sheet. It’s the first time he’s slept in his childhood bedroom without Mona next to him, and he is already regretting it. 

The next day, he leaves Mona with the shy receptionist (“Yoshizawa” reads her nametag) and she promises to return him in a timely manner.

“Do you follow us on Tweeter?” she asks shyly, fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt. “We tend to post pictures of our puppet patients after they’re done. Akechi-sensei takes pictures of them around town so it looks like they had a fun time here.”

“Ah yes, I saw,” Akira admits. “It’s very cute of you to think of that.”

“Oh!” Yoshizawa shakes her head so fiercely that her red hair flies everywhere. She looks up and for the first time, looks Akira straight in the eye as she smiles brightly. “It wasn’t my idea! This was all Akechi-sensei’s!”

Akira is sure that his eyes are so wide they look like they’re about to bulge out of his eyes but before he could ask Yoshizawa what she means, an old man hobbles in.

“Ah, Nakai-san,” Yoshizawa exclaims, running towards him to help him sit down in one of the waiting room chairs. 

Sensing that he’s in the way, Akira waves a goodbye to Yoshizawa and leaves the clinic, his mind racing at the revelation.

A few days later, Akira receives a text from AKECHI CLINIC that stated rather rigidly, “Your doll has been sewed up. Come by and get it.”

He supposes from the wording that Akechi is the one who sent the text, but when he drops by the clinic to pick up Mona - who is sewed up so well that if Akira hadn’t been the one to destroy him, he would have never guessed that he had ever been broken in the first place - Akechi isn’t there. Yoshizawa gives Akira a bright smile, a congratulations, and a reminder to check the AKECHI CLINIC Tweeter.

Akira doesn’t even wait to go home. He sits his ass down in the waiting room and immediately taps the app, ignoring Yoshizawa’s nervous “Kurusu-kun?” in the process. He is greeted with the picture of Mona and Gocchan sitting next to each other on what he recognizes as the bench outside of AKECHI CLINIC. He feels a bit jilted that Akechi didn’t take Mona around town until he reads the caption.

“Mona-chan and Gocchan are on a date! They had a great time hanging out <3”

He immediately likes and retweets it before asking, “Why didn’t Mona get to go around town like the other dolls did?”

Yoshizawa shrugs. “When I told him that you were the one to send in Mona-chan, he said that Mona probably already saw tons of stuff in Tokyo.”

Akira shakes his head. “Mona stayed here in Tottori. I didn’t take him to Tokyo.”

“Oh no,” Yoshizawa gasps, “then I apologize on Akechi-sensei’s behalf! The next time Mona rips up his arm, I’ll make sure that he gets the full Akechi Clinic experience.”

“It’s fine,” Akira says with a smile. “I won’t be ripping up Mona anymore.”

X

A week after the Mona and Gocchan Tweet, Akira drops by for a paper cut on his finger. “It hurts,” Akira says with as pitiful a frown as he can manage.

“Oh no!” Yoshizawa exclaims. She takes out a band-aid with pineapples all over it and hands it to him with a bright smile. “Here you go, Kurusu-san.”

“Is Akechi-sensei not in?”

“Akechi-sensei is, but he doesn’t want to see you unless necessary.”

Ouch.

“My chest hurts,” Akira says. 

Yoshizawa gasps, hiding her mouth with one manicured hand. “Oh no! I’ll get you an appointment right away. Thankfully there aren’t any patients for today so you can see Akechi-sensei right away if you need to.”

But Akechi takes one look at him, and gives him a pill case full of Tic-Tacs. “I don’t want to see your face unless it’s for a real medical emergency,” he says with a dismissive wave before kicking Akira out of the room.

Three days after that, Akira visits AKECHI CLINIC for a stomachache. He had eaten an entire plate of scrambled eggs made using a carton over three months old, and he hadn’t been able to stop barfing.

Akechi doesn’t even look up from his paperback. He simply gives Akira a small box of medicine, and instructions to eat only white bread and drink only plain water until he can keep food down for longer than half an hour. 

Four days after that, Akira drops by AKECHi CLINIC for a strange buzzing in his ear. Akechi peers into it with an otoscope before shaking his head. “As far as I can see there’s nothing wrong with your ear, except that you don’t know how to listen to instructions.”

Akira rubs his ear with the heel of his hand. “What?”

“I told you to never come by again unless it’s a real emergency,” Akechi sighs. “Food poisoning, sure, but a paper cut? A strange feeling in your knee? You’re worse than the old grandpas and grandmas who have nothing better to do than to use my waiting room to socialize.”

“I thought I wasn’t any better than the infants.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Akechi rummages under his desk and pulls out the familiar golden form of Gocchan. The doctor faces Akira and his condescending smirk is the last thing Akira sees before it’s covered up by Gocchan’s perpetual smile. 

“Fuck off,” Akechi says in the Mickey Mouse-esque falsetto he usually uses for Gocchan.

Akira smiles and reaches out to run his hand lightly through Gocchan’s fur, letting his finger stroke against Akechi’s lightly.

“Alright, doc. It’s a date.”


End file.
